


“happy birthday.”

by clickingkeyboards



Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [60]
Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: 18th birthday, Birthday Parties, Crack Treated Seriously, F/F, Fluff, Lazer tag, crackish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22439368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingkeyboards/pseuds/clickingkeyboards
Summary: Daisy's eighteenth birthday party goes down in a blaze of (laser tag) glory.Modern AUWritten for the sixtieth prompt in the '100 ways to say "I love you"' prompt list by p0ck3tf0x on Tumblr.
Relationships: Daisy Wells/Hazel Wong
Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [60]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533164
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	“happy birthday.”

“I’m going to crush you, Wells!”

“Not if I crush you first, Mukherjee!”

I roll my eyes and look at Kitty, who is practicing aiming a gun, complete with pew-pew noises (miming, may I add, as we have not received our guns yet), at Lavinia while saying that she’s going to be  _ destroyed _ .

It’s Daisy’s birthday during the Easter holidays, and we are gearing up for a laser quest match. Myself, Daisy, Kitty, Beanie, Lavinia, Amina, George, and Alexander. I’ve told Daisy that somebody is going to die today, and Daisy made a gun with her hands and mimed shooting at me. “If you’re not careful, it’ll be you, Watson.”

“You’ve got to be good at this, right, Alexander?” Lavinia asks, making finger guns at Alexander, who looks up from where he’s picking nervously at non-existent dirt under his nails.

“What?” he asks, his accent much thicker as his anxiety breaks through in his tone.

“You got guns over in America, right? Ever shot one?”

“Never.” He turns to where George is playfully wrestling with Daisy and makes a gesture at him. “George fired one when we were in America together but I refused to.”

“Oh yes, I did, didn’t I?” George says, giving Alexander a vague look of acknowledgement.

“Yes. You nearly shot me in the head.” He sounds significantly less amused than his best friend.

“You shouldn’t have walked in front of me!”

“You shouldn’t have been aiming a gun near my head!”

They glare at each other for a moment until Kitty says, “You’re like a couple of mutts marking territory. I can  _ smell  _ the testosterone from here.”

“That’s not how  _ anything  _ works!” Daisy replies, and I smile at her.

“Calm down, Daisy.”

“Fuck you, Watson.”

A young man emerges from the employee door, announcing, “Are you ready?!”

We squeal and shriek like little children while Daisy remains thoroughly unimpressed, the wrinkle appearing at the top of her nose.

“Who’s the birthday girl here?” he asks, waving his hands.

I point at Daisy, who sticks her tongue out at me.

“Ah, Miss Daisy Wells!” crows the young man, throwing out his arms dramatically. “Would you like to assign teams?”

“I want Hazel.” She seizes my wrist in her hand. “Everyone else is fair game.”

A normal friendship group would take offence at the blatant favouritism and dismissal, so much so that even the young man leading our group looks alarmed. However, everyone laughs and grabs their own partner. Lavinia steps towards Amina, who grins and shoots her finger guns, George and Alexander reach to grab each other’s sleeves at the same time, and Beanie and Kitty are already at each other’s sides. 

“A pair game at first?” asks the man, and George grins wickedly at Daisy.

“Absolutely. I want to shoot the birthday girl in the head.”

“George!” Alexander scolds.

* * *

When we’re armed with our laser guns, they send us into the enormous dark room to scatter. Wooden dividers painted with glow-in-the-dark strokes of graffiti are cutting the room into a confusing maze of this and that, slopes and tubes and low walls that Daisy leaps over with graceful ease. Once I’m over the middle-height wall rising from the ground, Daisy grabs my hand and twines our fingers together, yanking me to the centre of the bustling, confusing room, where there is a tall structure shaped like a strange skyscraper.

Daisy could probably climb it.

“I’ll climb,” she whispers in my ear, her breath warming my skin and sending a tickling shiver down my spine. “You—”

She gets one foot worked onto an impossible ledge and the other off the ground before something shoots her in the head, making a droning noise as her gun flashes from blue to the temporarily-deactivated red.

“We had the idea first, Wells. Fuck off.”

Ah. George.

With a scowl and a curse, Daisy grabs my hand and drags me off to the doorway, to the ramp leading up to the room in which we were assigned guns.

“When the boys chase everyone else away, they’ll run here.”

“Then we pick them off,” I breathe, understanding her at last. 

“Exactly!” The detective sparkle appears in her eyes and she grabs my hand. “Ready?”

I lean over and kiss her hard. “Happy birthday, Daisy.”

The blue lights on our guns flash to red, and Beanie’s high giggle and whispered, “I got you!” goes entirely unnoticed. 


End file.
